The Right Way Home

I was on my way back from a visit to my home country, Singapore, with my boyfriend of about ten months during the summer, and we were on a 15-hour flight back to Canada.
He’d apparently scoped out the plane a little while before, because he knew exactly where to head to the moment he’d woken me up. I was sleeping blissfully on his shoulder when he woke me up with a hand up my skirt and his fingers inside me. I had the window seat and was soon pressed between the wall and his body leaning over me. The atmosphere was electric because I couldn’t move and all I could blearily see in my sleep-drugged state was him and a bit of the dark cabin, and all I could feel was his fingers thrusting in and out of me, bringing me to climax. I couldn’t help gasping and moaning, even knowing that there were people all around us. I’d just woken up so my defenses were low, practically non-existent. I couldn’t help but give in to the feeling. I tried to curb my noises as I came violently, grabbing onto anything; his arm, his shoulder, as he whispered harshly how he knew I was such a bad girl, I was his little slut and nobody knew. He whispered in my ear ‘Let’s go.’ and I got up and, after stepping past the aisle passenger in our row, followed him to the back of the plane without a single objection. We walked past sleeping passengers and right past the food preparation area, where two air stewardesses were talking in the other aisle, and straight into the handicapped washroom.
The moment he locked the door behind us he told me to turn around and put his cock in my mouth, and I sat down on the closed toilet bowl and we both fumbled his jeans and boxers down and soon I had gotten him panting quietly away.
Soon he pushed me back and told me to turn around and take off my skirt. I lifted it up and in seconds he was inside me, thrusting in and out while I supported myself with my hands against the wall. The washroom walls were covered in mirrors so we could see ourselves from every angle, and I could see him going in and out behind me with just a glance to the right.
I tried hard not to make too much noise, biting my lip in order not to gasp or moan too loudly. The danger of the situation, of the possibility of getting caught was tangible in the air, but still we took our pleasure. He spun me back around to finish him off and he came in my mouth minutes later. Shaking, we cleaned up and settled our clothes, and then he listened at the door for the movement and conversation outside to subside. Once it did, we opened the door and walked right back to our seats without a look in any other direction, woke the poor hapless aisle passenger for our row and sat back in our seats, none the wiser.
And for the rest of the journey… well all he would do is turn to me and slide a hand up my skirt… and I came three more times across the length of that amazing flight back home.

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